


Not So Peaceful

by AwkwaBen



Category: Silent Hill (Video Game Series)
Genre: Horror, Let's See How Far We Get, Written game
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-07 06:58:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17955767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwkwaBen/pseuds/AwkwaBen
Summary: Here I will take your hand and walk with you and James Sunderland through the story of Silent Hill 2.





	Not So Peaceful

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short prologue chapter, mostly for me to get a feeling on how I wanted to go about this. Also because I enjoy the imagery of James calling his boss and then leaving to drive to The Worst Town Ever. 
> 
> Silent Hill 2 has always been incredibly important to me and every now and again I like to revisit it. This time, I'd like to revisit it in the form of a fic. I've seen these kinds of fanfictions before, but I haven't seen any on here and I wanted to try my hand at it. My own tribute to one of my favourite fandoms. We shall see how far we get.

The name on the letter said Mary Sunderland.

For a long while James Sunderland stood there in front of his mailbox just outside of the small house he had bought with wife, the structure now suffocatingly large at times, and stared at the front of the envelope. His heart had fallen into his stomach at seeing the familiar hand that wrote his name and address in the middle. The careful hand that matched his late wife, who had been torn from him by a sickness two years prior. 

Two minutes passed, then three and then five before James took the letter inside. Another long stretch of time passed with more staring and his heart pounding too loudly in his chest. Eventually, however, he did take the letter out and he did read it. Then he re-read it. Once more, twice more. 

Silent Hill. The letter referenced Silent Hill and how it had become their special place when she was still alive. How James had promised they would go back before Mary got too sick. James remembered taking her there on vacation years ago. Remembered walking through the streets of the town and looking at the shops. Remembered taking her down to Taluca lake. The short boat ride from the docks across the lake and to the hotel situated on an isolated island near the middle of the water. Specifically James had remembered how happy Mary had seemed looking out the window of their hotel room. How she liked to comment on how peaceful the whole place was. James loved seeing his wife like that, soft smile played across her face.

Mary, the letter said, was waiting in that town. James stared at the words carefully laid on the pages. At first he assumed the whole thing was a hoax. That someone had gone through a whole lot of trouble to drag up feelings that he had worked so hard to push down. Memories he had worked to move on from. But the more he looked at the letter, the more he re-read it and re-read it again, the more he thought that maybe it was the real deal, regardless of how impossible the idea was. How preposterous. It was all too specific.

Maybe, James thought to himself, he could go see for himself if it was real or not. The worst case scenario would either be that nothing happened or he would have to yell at someone. Or maybe, he thought again, the worst case would be that the letter _was_ real. That Mary was really waiting for him in the town of Silent Hill. That her ghost had appeared, or that she had never died in the first place and had now decided that she wanted to see James all that time later.

Ridiculous.

Still, the bottom line was that he had to go. _Had_ to, or he would be left always wondering about it. Wonder what he would find once he got there, if he had left his wife alone. Or, barring that, who had gone through so much trouble to fake a letter from his dead wife. 

So James called up his boss that evening. Told his boss at the corporate office that he needed to use his sick days. That he would be gone for a week at most and would let his boss know if he got back earlier. Family emergency, he said to appease the frown he could hear in his boss' voice by then. Then, granted the time off, James made himself busy packing up an overnight bag of essentials. A change of clothes, dental hygiene, things of that nature.

The next morning, James stowed the overnight bag into the backseat of his car. Folded the letter with Mary's name on it carefully and tucked it into the front pocket of his jeans. Double checked, then triple checked the map on how to even _get_ to Silent Hill in the first place. Then he got into his car and started to drive. It was going to be a long trip.


End file.
